


The Crowned Shape

by raspberryhunter



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, Unreliable Narrator, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberryhunter/pseuds/raspberryhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Listen to my tale, lords and ladies, and then judge me, if you will.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I am the High Queen, and my lord Arthur and I are beset on all sides.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I write of the last day on this earth of the Isle of Avalon.</i>
</p>
<p>Three viewpoints from the days of Arthur's kingdom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Crowned Shape

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morganstern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganstern/gifts).



> Many thanks to my awesome beta team, sprocket and morbane!
> 
> morganstern, thank you for the opportunity to write this treat for you. Happy Yuletide!

**I. Ygraine**

The penalty for treason is death; this I well know. And you say that, when I helped Morgan to escape, I committed treason against our High King, my son.

Listen to my tale, lords and ladies, and then judge me, if you will.

When it became known to all that Arthur was my son and Morgan's brother, she returned home for a time from Avalon to come to know him. Arthur was overjoyed to find that he had family, not only a mother, but also sisters. And to my beloved daughter Morgan, Arthur was the younger brother she had never had.

In those days she had no thought except to help him and to teach him. Before Arthur married, before Guinevere became our High Queen, Morgan herself stood beside his throne and advised him, for she had been raised in the royal court and he had not; she should have been queen had he not ascended to the throne. When the twelve kings rose up against Arthur after he began to rule, she showed him how best to fight against them with both sword and magic. But also: when King Lot was killed in the battle, she advised him to make ample provision for Morgause and her sons.

"But he was my enemy!" Arthur protested, looking uncertainly at her. "Might not others say, 'The King is weak, to provide for those who wished him ill'?"

She smiled at him and cuffed him lightly, as an older sister will with a beloved younger brother. "Generosity is never weakness," she said. "And as High King, you must be the most generous of all. Lot may have risen against you traitorously," she continued, "but his wife and sons did not; they are innocent."

Arthur still looked dubious. She said, "The men of Orkney can be implacable enemies, but show them friendship and Lot's sons will be your loyal men forever. Remember that."

"I will remember, sister," he said. And so he has done, my youngest child, my dear and only son.

In those days also came the Lady of the Lake. Nimue and Morgan had been together at Avalon, but Morgan had left and Nimue had stayed, to take the priestess robes and sacred vows of that Isle. She came to bring Arthur the accoutrements of the High King, the king foretold: the sword Excalibur, which no weapon can withstand, and its scabbard, which grants invincibility and protects the wearer from harm.

I have sworn to tell all, so I will tell also of the day at Camelot I went to Morgan's rooms and saw her with the sword Excalibur in her hands, for at that time Arthur still trusted her to hold these precious items. I said to her in jest, "And not the scabbard?"

"No, Arthur has that," Morgan said; "I must suppose Nimue counseled him not to let both out of his sight at once. And yet —"

I am a mother, and I saw the lines on her brow. "Sit by me," I said, "and tell me what distresses you. I know you do not begrudge your brother these precious items."

She sat, the sword in her hands, but did not answer me at once. Finally she said, "Together they are too powerful for one man. And Avalon recedes from the world, perhaps for an age and an age. Such magic, to make such a sword as Excalibur, such a scabbard, is no longer to be found there or anywhere. It troubles me... a single person, and not even Avalon-trained, might take great liberties, with such power."

I said sharply, "But the High King must be invincible, at least for a time." For I remembered, if she did not, the spite of the minor kings and how the land was torn before the High King came to unite the land. "Would you have the kingdom torn to pieces by its enemies before it is consolidated?"

Her answer was only, "Is the king made for the kingdom, or the kingdom for the king?" as she turned the sword over and over where it lay on her lap. But surely she did not wish any harm to the king.

*

That autumn I was visiting the abbey six miles hence when a procession of knights and squires descended upon it. I found to my dismay that Arthur had been hurt, by a mysterious knight who had stolen Excalibur from him; the power of the scabbard had rendered the injury not serious, but I still worried, and he was given the abbess' own room in which to rest and recover.

That night I could not sleep, and walked the halls. I saw a dark figure soundlessly glide out of Arthur's room, and I swiftly followed it. Perhaps I looked like a nun myself, pacing through the dark stone halls. Perhaps that is why Morgan paid me no mind as she made her way through the abbey; but a mother knows her daughter.

"Morgan!" My voice was not loud, indeed was a whisper, but it carried in those silent halls.

She turned. "Mother? I…"

But she could not dissemble; I saw the scabbard in her hand, the scabbard of invincibility. "What are you doing?" I hissed. "Your brother is wounded, Excalibur used against him; and now you take this as well? What madness is this?"

I did not know then, I swear it, that she herself had ordered the knight to steal and deploy Excalibur against my son. Had I known, I might have chosen differently. Or I might not have.

For, though my son turn away from me, I shall now speak of dark things that were hidden. You know the prophecy that the child born in a certain month would destroy the High King. But my daughter showed me, with her arts, a vision of what came after: my son Arthur giving orders to his sworn man; his sworn man pushing a boat of infants into the sea, my grandson among them; the boat dashing against the rocks, the babies sinking into the water. 

I weep thinking of it yet.

Was it a dream, a terrible lie? I do not think so. She is my daughter, and I saw her face, full of grief and pain. And though I did not raise my son from birth, I see his face also, as he stands above you all, and I know the truth.

"I did not stand against my brother when he was made king, or when Nimue gave Excalibur to him," she said dully. "Nor did I when he slew my sister's husband. I even defended Arthur to Morgause at Lot's funeral… but Mother, how can this be otherwise but the rankest injustice? And one of the infants is my sister Morgause's youngest child Mordred… Let my brother be subject to mortal fear; let him understand what it is to be powerless, and perhaps he will turn away from such a monstrosity in the future."

"I will not hinder you," I said to her, my voice blurred by tears, shaken by what she had shown me, anguished by the division between my daughter and my son; and so I came with her in silence to the gate of the abbey.

Judge then, lords and ladies. It was not power or hatred that drove her, but justice: her thought for those who were and are helpless. Had Morgan meant my son harm, would I have helped her? Had she meant to kill her brother, would she not have done so as he lay defenseless before her?

I will say only this more: I fear greatly both for my daughter and for my son. From these things comes the fall of dukedoms, comes the fall of kingdoms.

**II. Guinevere**

I am the High Queen, and my lord Arthur and I are beset on all sides. There are many in this kingdom who censure him for the deaths he has caused in battle and otherwise. But a king must often be cruel. If the king were to fall for the sake of a handful of innocents, should the king then choose the innocents?

I will name our enemy in this: Morgan le Fay. These many years ago, when she stole the precious scabbard of Excalibur, matters that had been hidden came to light. Ygraine, who should have died the death for letting escape a known threat to the king, was acquitted. And Mordred — Mordred's treason now against the crown, I contend, begins from that time: the knowledge that Arthur had sent him to die as a babe, though he alone lived, doubtless through Morgan's black arts.

See if you doubt Morgan's malice against Arthur and me when I tell what happened after Ygraine's trial. A damosel came from Morgan with a gift for us: a mantle, fit for kings and queens, lined with fur and decked with gemstones. "This mantle," the damosel said, "has a great charm laid upon it, such that it will protect one who has the kingdom's best interests at heart, but curse one who does not." For a moment we all thought that Morgan had repented of what she had done, and Arthur held out his hands for the mantle.

Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, is the one who stood then and stands now as chief councilor to the kingdom. "Wait," she said, where she stood behind our thrones, her voice low but carrying.

A presentiment of doom came over me. I glanced at Nimue and then back to the girl. I said, "Let the damosel herself wear the mantle before it is given to the king."

The damosel protested, but the mantle was placed upon her shoulders. There was a sudden burst of flame, as we all looked on in horror. Nimue spoke words of magic, and the fire died away.

This is what Morgan planned for me, or for Arthur. Ygraine may have claimed that Morgan acted for justice, but now it is clear that Morgan acted only for love of her own power: she wished me to be cast down, she wished to be High Queen in my place.

*

Now Mordred has rebelled against the king. We meet the traitor at Camlann to parley or to fight, though my heart tells me it will come to fighting.

Already there has been an attempt to forestall the battle. Morgan, traitor herself, traitor's aunt, sent me a message asking to meet by the river under the flag of peace. I think she dared not meet with her brother.

I went, my bright sword girded at my side, but sheathed for the truce. I am no coward, to fear her magics, though they have been turned against me before. 

She was waiting for me at the riverbank. "Arthur must not go to Camlann, Guinevere," she said without preamble. "Should he go to battle with Mordred's death in his heart, it will mean Arthur's death as well, or as close to his death as makes no matter. So I have been shown."

"And why should I believe you?" I demanded. "You took from Arthur the protection he ought to have now. You tried to kill us."

"I will not talk of those things," she said, "except to say I spoke truly concerning the mantle, and did not choose my messenger well. Only — I would ask that you think about my words, even if you do not trust me. Ask those you trust to confirm them."

I flared, "So you would have us retreat before Mordred? To let the kingdom be destroyed by him?"

She said steadily, "I would not have the kingdom be destroyed. But the king must not go to Camlann. Indeed, it is for the sake of the kingdom that he must not fight there."

"The kingdom was made to serve the king," I replied, "and our decisions are not to be made by you." I set my hand on the hilt of the sword, but I did not draw it, for I have honor. "And if it were not that I swore to abide by the sign of truce, I would cut you down where you stood for all that you have done." With that I left her there.

There is neither any help at Avalon. The Lady of the Lake seems to be retreating from the cares of this kingdom, Avalon on the brink of receding from this world for an age and an age, or so she says. When I summoned her, she said only that she dared not do any great magic for fear of unmooring Avalon. And she repeated what Morgan had already said, that Arthur and I must not go to Camlann. Our other councilors say the same. Are they all in league with Morgan? If so, all is already lost.

There is none in whom I can trust, save my lord alone.

I am the High Queen, and shall be until I die, or my lord Arthur dies. Morgan was never High Queen, and never shall be.

Morgan knows this. It was never justice that drove her, but power, and her own wish to rule.

She will be content only when all is in ruins, the kingdom rent, the king slain.

But we shall arm ourselves for Camlann, and we shall triumph.

**III. The Damosel of the Lake**

I write of the last day on this earth of the Isle of Avalon, and of my mistress Nimue, the last Lady of the Lake, and of the queen Morgan, called le Fay. Where they are now I cannot say of my own self, though indeed I believe that they abide to this day beyond this world.

Nimue had long prepared for the receding of Avalon. We all knew the prophecies of the Isle departing for an age and an age. All the acolytes had been given the training in magic and ritual to become priestesses, or had left Avalon entirely. I was the only acolyte remaining; I had begged Nimue to keep me on, when she had dismissed the rest of the acolytes, though we knew I might not have time to complete my training. 

But I hoped. The Isle was my home since I had come there as a young girl; the apple trees that grew on the Isle were my playground, the priestesses my elder sisters. And the magic that infused it all made colors seem brighter, made the very water we drank sweet; I could not imagine living always away from it. 

At this time the invisible guardians of the Lake would bar those who had no call to be there, and there was no boat but the Lady of the Lake's to bear supplicants to Avalon, should they not be versed in using the Isle's magic to walk upon the water itself. So on that day, the last day of Avalon, as I walked in the courtyard of white stones, I was shocked to see a woman I did not know approaching over the water.

I ran for Nimue, but the guardians had alerted her; and she came to face the woman there in the courtyard of Avalon's sanctuary. "Morgan," Nimue said, standing tall and forbidding in the most formal of her priestess robes. I knew then that this was Morgan le Fay, the king's sister, the king's sworn enemy. "You are not welcome here."

Morgan smiled archly, a flash of teeth. "You do not wish me here, Nimue, and yet the guardians of the Lake know I have as much right as you: the right of one trained at Avalon. And I come bearing a message that you may do well to heed." She looked at Nimue, frowning. "Arthur rides to Camlann. He fights against Mordred. You know what this means."

Nimue drew in a breath. I saw disbelief and anger in her face. "Arthur at Camlann… and after I had told him and Guinevere, in the strongest of terms, to forebear…" Her features smoothed out into a mask. "I see, I think. But I do not see why you are here, here of all places."

Morgan leaned forward. "For the sake of the friendship that once we bore each other in girlhood: should the worst befall as was foretold, would you aid me in the healing triad?"

Nimue drew back. I saw her hand tremble where it was clenched against her side. "The healing triad? For Arthur? The triad of queens, and I as the priestess over it? Such a powerful magic, at Avalon at this time of all times; do you know what you ask?"

"I do," Morgan replied, holding Nimue's eyes for a long moment. 

Nimue looked away first. Slowly she nodded. "Not for your sake. For the kingdom that was and that will be in ages to come, but that no longer is."

She turned to me. She did not speak of what must be, nor did she need to; I knew. I did not yet have the training to survive the passing of Avalon. I must abide in this world, without Avalon, without magic.

"I am sorry," Nimue said to me gently. "I had thought there would be more time. And yet this also perhaps was meant to be, that you will be a voice in this world telling of Avalon, when it is gone."

*

I was the last, the very last, to use the magic of the Lake to walk upon the water to the shore. I was the last to see the Isle of Avalon as it was, the sun shining on the white stones, the trees heavy with apples, before the fog closed in upon it for the last time.

(I have gone to the Lake many times since, and the guardians no longer bar those who come to its waters, but even when there is no fog I see only the shore beyond.)

I lingered, even after the fog had hidden the Isle from view, and so I saw the knight come to the water. The guardians let him through, for he bore the sword Excalibur. He hefted it, as if to throw it into the water, but instead turned, hiding the sword beneath a bush, and walked quickly the other way.

I climbed a tree, hiding myself within its leaves, to see what happened next. Soon enough the knight returned, tears running down his face, another man slung awkwardly over his shoulder; and I recognized the High King. He was still alive, but his clothing was bloodied, his face pale and gaunt. The knight gently laid the King at the side of the water, and at a nod from him, gathered up the sword and flung it with great force into the waters of the lake.

And as it disappeared into the depths, a barge emerged out of the fog, moving swiftly and silently across the still waters. In the boat stood Nimue, next to a bed richly appointed with silk and satin finery. Next to her stood three women with circlets on their brow, three queens, robed in black; and the queen who stepped forward was Morgan le Fay. Shimmering around them was the last magic of Avalon, the magic that might heal the kingdom after an age and an age. This is what the loss and the magic was for, I knew: it was for the sake of the kingdom, the king healed and remade for the kingdom.

The King murmured something to the knight, who helped him into the boat, where he reclined upon the bed, gasping a little with pain. Morgan said to him, grief in her voice, "Alas, dear brother, your wound is cold; why have you tarried so long from me?"

"I thought you hated me," Arthur said hoarsely.

"Oh, my brother," Morgan said, more gently than I would have believed possible, "I never hated you, never. I only hated the flaw at the heart of your kingdom, the flaw that was doomed to destroy it."

"And yet," said Nimue at her side, her voice like honey, "let us say all: had Arthur fallen with his kingdom intact, you would have taken the queenship."

Morgan bent her head to Nimue, queen to queen. "I would have taken it."

Then the fog hid them from view, and I saw them not again in our mortal lands.

**Author's Note:**

> The question of _Is the king made for the kingdom, or the kingdom for the king?_ is taken directly from Charles Williams' Arthurian poetry, as is the title.


End file.
